“It doesn’t matter how rich or successful a man is.
If he doesn’t have an education, he’s got nothing.”
First, I have a strict policy when it comes to people bragging about their kids' accomplishments.
Let’s call it my Airport Standard.
And I’m blessed with plenty of friends who qualify.
And I’m genuinely happy for them when their kids do something bragworthy.
Let’s be honest about that.
Most high school graduates in America go on to get some degree or other now.
And their mission is to treat students like customers.
They’re there to be made happy, like passengers on a cruise.
Not necessarily educated, like actual scholars.
Which is not that hard anymore.
That’s a point I took every opportunity to drill into both my son’s young, developing brains.
But without guys like him, everything shuts down.
He makes a very good living, and his job will never be outsourced to Sri Lanka.
And nothing has ever dissuaded me from that idea.
But going to college was right for my younger son.
2 Son, campus life was a perfect fit.
I got the sense he’d found exactly the right place as soon as we made our first visit.
Just one man’s hypothesis.
There are certain universal truths to becoming a parent.
One, that having a child impacts every part of your life long before they’re born.
The way an expectant mom carries herself; in a good mood, even when she’s exhausted.
And without a doubt, one of them is Graduation Day.
And when that day finally arrives, it hits you.
Yet here’s another universal truth every parent can relate to.
Graduation ceremonies are awful.
Without exception, there’s nothing remotely interesting about them.
Graduations are essentially the middle 90 minutes of the Academy Awards.
And the best one ever witnessed isn’t one iota better than the worst.
And don’t put your hopes in the Commencement Address.
The only one anyone can remember was Michael Keaton a few years ago.
And even his is reduced to his last three words, “I am Batman.”
Which only works for him and like four other living actors.
So your odds of having a good one are infinitesimal.
The A’s through D’s get huge rounds of applause.
By the F’s, everyone starts saving their strength; clapping maybe every third name.
By the P’s, I start scanning the crowd for celebrity look-a-likes.
(That kid about to go up looks like Nate from Ted Lasso," etc.)
Around S, I start obsessing over the outfits on the faculty.
The wild assortment of hats.
The giant beret that could’ve come out of the French Painter costume at Spirit Halloween.
One that is straight from the guy working the Axe Throwing booth at King Richard’s Faire.
Some from the Ministry of Magic.
Others from somefictional kingdom the Marx Brothersare put in charge of.
That is, until my son’s name is called.
The one imagining this Older Me living this very moment I dreamed about then.
Until now, I’ve mainly been talking about what every parent of every grad goes through.
What follows is more personal.
The experiences of this father, watching this son earn his college degree.
A while back,I wrote about living past the age my father did.
Life comes at you in milestones.
One day guys your age are playing in the Major Leagues.
The next, guys your age are getting elected to Cooperstown.
Then one day you’re outliving your dad, and so on.
But it’s not always that linear.
I don’t know if this is quite what Einstein was getting at, but it’s relative too.
Like the relationship between a father and his son.
She bought him organizers, racks, hangers, everything he’d need.
Which is every mother’s instinct.
And it runs deep in the devoted Irish Rose.
At those moments, I took my inspiration from history.
Told the Prince needed reinforcements, the King famously said, “Let the boy earn his spurs.”
He rallied his troops and was named Prince of Wales.
Afterwards, Edward said to the Prince, “Fair son.
You are my good son and you have acquitted yourself nobly today.
You are worthy to keep a realm.”
I wish I’d said the same after the ceremony, so I’m saying it now.
It seems as good a time as any.
Because I’ve known it to be true for 22 years and counting.
Happy graduation to the Class of 2023.
You’ve made your parents proud.
